


harry potter and the order of peraltiago

by nevermindthewind



Category: Brooklyn Nine-Nine (TV)
Genre: Amy catches Jake reading Harry Potter, F/M, Fluff, nerdiness ensues, post 4x12
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-03
Updated: 2018-02-03
Packaged: 2019-03-13 06:16:25
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,675
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13564593
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nevermindthewind/pseuds/nevermindthewind
Summary: “I mean, that giant prank they pulled on Umbridge?! That’s some heist-level trickery right there, Ames. We clearly are on the same wavelength.”“True. You’d definitely be a Weasley, just a slightly less gingery one.”“And you’d be my Latina Hermione.""Damn straight."





	harry potter and the order of peraltiago

**Author's Note:**

> Hello! 
> 
> This is my first fic for this fandom but hopefully not my last. (:
> 
> I've always loved these two dorks, but I especially loved all the little HP moments in the Fugitive, and so this fic was born.
> 
> Any feedback is always appreciated, especially in the form of kudos and comments! 
> 
> Enjoy!

The day after they catch the fugitives, Jake has the day off. Amy, however, is stuck at the precinct. 

 

Normally they were able to schedule their days off together. But of course today, the day after they decided to move in together, was her first without him in months. And while, yes, she is more productive than usual and, yes, she finishes more paperwork than she ever does with Jake sitting across from her, she can’t help but miss him.  The bullpen is just not the same without his goofy smile.

 

Time seems to tick even slower than usual, and by the time the clock on her desk hits five she practically jumps out of her chair, more than eager to get home, to Jake.

 

An hour and one stop at Little Taipei later she’s trudging up the stairs of his apartment (His elevator is always broken, just one more reason why they were moving into her place). 

 

“Jake?” she calls out, stepping out of her work shoes as soon as she opens the door. “I got din-- Oh my…” 

 

His apartment looks like a tornado swept through it. Clothes lay strewn across the floor, and the ground is littered with boxes, each half full of a random assortment of items that  _ definitely _ did not belong together. The box immediately to her left, for example, is filled with several plaid shirts, the second and third Die Hard DVDs, and an at-home fondue kit that had clearly never been opened.  

 

She sighs, half of her appalled she’s even attracted to someone who is this disorganized, while the other half is just impressed he attempted to pack at all.  But as impressed as she is, Amy can’t help but think that he really should’ve waited for her before he started packing; now they were going to have to start all over. Thank  _ God _ she remembered her packing binder.

 

“Jake,” she calls again, furrowing her eyebrows when she is once again greeted with silence. She makes her way to the bedroom, stopping along the way to pick up the assortment of shoes that line the hallway.  

 

The door to his room is cracked open just enough so she can see a pair of legs sprawled out across the bed, his upper half hidden from view.

 

She laughs to herself as pushes the door open. “So I see packing is off to a great start -- What are you doing?”

 

Jake’s legs are the only part of him still on the bed, with his top half hanging off the side like some weird little puppet.  His entire head is a deep red, clearly having been in this position for a while.  But the awkward position is not what has caught Amy’s attention; it’s the book he’s holding in front of his face. Her heart skips a beat when she sees the familiar blue cover, sees how focused he is on whatever is happening on the page.

 

She sets the shoes down as she crawls onto the bed. Turning herself over, she flops down next to him and arches her back, allowing herself to fall off the side of the mattress.  As she scoots herself further down to match him, she realizes he still has no idea she’s there.  With a devilish grin she leans over and whispers into his ear.

 

“Whatcha reading?”

 

His reaction is priceless; he jumps so far he hits his head on the floor, causing him to drop the book right onto his nose. “Gah -- what-- when did you get here? I’m kind of in the middle of something.”

 

“When did you get here, I’m kind of in the middle of something-- title of your sex tape,” she says, nudging his shoulder with her own. He grins at her joke, but immediately picks up the book and goes back to reading, refusing to take his eyes off the page.

 

“They’re all at the ministry and Sirius and the rest of the Order just showed up,” he says in response, flipping the page. “I’ll pack soon.”

 

Amy nods in understanding, a surge of pride coursing through her. She plants a soft kiss on his cheek before pulling herself up.  “I’m going to eat, there’s orange chicken and egg rolls for you whenever you’re done.”

 

She heads back into the kitchen, grabbing the bag of takeout before plopping herself down on the couch, her smile never leaving her face.  She knew he was reading Harry Potter, of course, but it was another thing entirely to see him so wrapped up in it, to see him loving that world as much as she does.  

 

For a while she eats in silence, flicking through her phone as she does so.  The apartment is never this quiet, except maybe in the early mornings when she’s up before him, tiptoeing out the door she can shower at her place.  She tries to be as quiet as possible, not wanting to wake Jake up. Even then she almost always trips over something and wakes him anyway. It occurs to her that she’ll never have to do that again, and her smile widens so far she swears her face might break in half.  

 

A strangled cry comes from the bedroom, the sound wiping the smile off of Amy’s face as she jumps from the couch. Immediately she begins to panic, a million thoughts racing through her head.  Did something happen at the precinct? Did the prisoners escape  _ again _ ? Did Charles finally go too far and accidentally poison himself?

 

For all the scenarios she comes up with, none of them could have prepared her for the reality of finding Jake I’ve-only-ever-read-fifteen-books Peralta now curled into a ball at the head of the bed, the book clutched in his hand as tears run down his cheeks.

 

She suppresses a laugh as she makes her way into the room. “Babe?”

 

He looks up and doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he’s crying. “Sirius just fell into that veil thing.  He just  _ died. _ He was the closest thing Harry had to a dad and now he’s  _ gone _ .” 

 

“Oh, Jake,” she whispers, climbing onto the bed and situating herself beside him.  Jake rolls over onto his other side, adjusting himself so his head is in Amy’s lap.  

 

“I mean it’s just so sad,” he says, finally putting the book down to look up at Amy. “After everything Harry goes through with Umbridge -- God, she makes Wuntch look like a flipping fairy princess -- he has to deal with this?!”

 

“I know,” Amy nods. “I should have warned you, the fifth book’s a doozy.”

 

“For realz. I had no idea these books got so intense. I thought it was just a bunch of kids running around and doing magic tricks and being total badasses, which they are, but it’s all so real!”

 

Jake continues to ramble about the books, about how much of a butthead Dumbledore has been and how he wishes he could have an owl for a sidekick (“Because how toight would that be?!”) and how he thinks Fred and George would be best friends with him and Charles. Amy just listens, running her hand through his hair as he talks.  

 

“I mean, that giant prank they pulled on Umbridge?! That’s some heist-level trickery right there, Ames. We clearly are on the same wavelength.”

 

She laughs. “True, you’d definitely be a Weasley, just a slightly less gingery one.”

 

“And you’d be my Latina Hermione,” he adds.

 

“Damn straight. Except I’d be a Ravenclaw.”

 

“Well, duh. With your binder collection? The Sorting Hat would have no choice.”

 

A gurgling noise loud enough to wake the dead erupts from Jake’s stomach, cutting them off. 

 

“When’s the last time you ate?” Amy asks, trying not to laugh.

 

“Well, I had breakfast around 10:00, then started packing but got distracted when I found the book on the side table.” He checks his watch to see that it’s almost 7:00. “So, it’s been a while.”

 

Amy raises her eyebrows in surprise. “Too distracted to eat? Dang, Peralta.”

 

“It got interesting, okay?” Jake insists. “Harry saw Mr. Weasley get attacked, so obviously I had to make sure he was alive.” 

 

Again his stomach growls, as if emphasizing his point.  A giggle escapes Amy’s mouth as she leans down and plants a kiss on his forehead. “Alright nerd, let’s get you some dinner.”

 

“But I want to find out what happens,” Jake whines.  

 

Amy rolls her eyes, but she also can’t be too mad; she had said the exact same thing to her mom whenever she was in the middle of a book. However their food is getting cold and Jake is in his 30s not his preteens, so Amy channels her inner Camila Santiago as she gets off the bed.

 

“You can read after you eat,” she tells him.

 

“Fine.” Jake sighs dramatically as he rolls himself off the bed. “But I’m taking the book with me.”

 

“Deal.”

 

They make their way to the living room and settle on the couch, the two of them eating out of each other’s takeout boxes. Amy tells him about her day, and about all of the ideas she has for how to pack his apartment up as efficiently as possible.  Jake, God love him, listens as best he can, even agreeing to limit the amount of As-Seen-On-TV items he takes with him. But as soon as the last of the egg rolls are gone, the book is back out. And so the rest of the night is spent with Jake sprawled on the couch in various, seemingly uncomfortable positions as he continues to read while Amy goes through the boxes and attempts to organize them. 

 

It occurs to her that this is her life now, that this will be what she comes home to everyday.  She will be coming home to  _ their _ place, to hang out and read Harry Potter on  _ their  _ couch and go to sleep in  _ their  _ bed.  

 

And dammit if that doesn’t make her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. 

 


End file.
